The King of Composure
by Ms Blue Twilight
Summary: The great "Inception-mission" is over, but it's not like the team stops working with dreams. After all, there are always new ideas to be tested and new dreams to be dreamt.


**The King of Composure **

Arthur was sitting leaned-back in an armchair with his eyes closed and an intent expression in his face. His dark suit almost melted together with the leather of the chair, as did his sweptback hair, and had it not been for the white shirt he might have been hard to discover in the dusk. The spacious room was well lit up and painted entirely in white, yet the area where Arthur was sitting was a lot darker. Then again, in dreams the light usually behaved as wanted from the dreamer without objection. Ariadne watched silently how the older man slowly rotated a glass filled with dark red liquor in his right hand, just beneath his nose. She sneaked closer, not wanting to disturb him. Except from the hand's precautious movements he was absolutely still. He looked at peace. It hit her that once he closed his eyes, he looked a lot frailer, more helpless. She was not more than some meter away when suddenly he moved, ever so little. The thin lips parted slightly, the glass tilted precisely enough for the red liquor to pour into his mouth and at the same instant he opened his dark eyes and glanced at her. The helpless, frail creature that had just been there disappeared. Left was only the usual, composed, all-knowing and controlling Arthur.

"Hello, Ariadne."

"Um… hi. Sorry I'm late, I got caught up in a conversation with Eames. Have you been waiting for long?"

"A couple of hours."

"A couple of…? God, sometimes I still forget how different time moves here. Really, I'm sorry."

"It's no problem. I've managed myself, so to say."

Arthur smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat.

"So… what is that?"

She threw a look at the glass in his hand and he gave it to her.

"Taste it and tell me what you think."

She obeyed. It was dry, yet had a rich fragrance of fruit and… something more, that made her tongue shiver with surprise and curiosity.

"It doesn't taste like any other wine I've ever drunken", she said while handing Arthur the half emptied glass. "But it was very good. What is it?"

"I'm glad you liked it", he said while spinning the glass slowly in front of his eyes. "Proves your good taste. It's a wine. A wine that I'm creating to appeal to my personal tastes perfectly.

"Have you succeeded?"

"Not yet. It still has too much of a sweet after taste. Actually, this has proven to be far harder than I thought. It's like…

"… a maze." Ariadne ended the sentence for him.

"Exactly."

The corners of Arthur's eyes wrinkled in an amused smile that made his face soften up and Ariadne quickly looked away. Did he have to smile like that? She'd lose all focus if he continued acting this way and that would be a catastrophe, to say the least.

"Um… so is this what you wanted to show me?"

"Oh, no. Of course not. This is just something I experimented with while waiting."

Arthur put down the glass on an elegant little table beside him that she could have sworn hadn't been there before and rose from the chair.

"Let's get to business then. Shall we?"

Without waiting for an answer he walked away. Ariadne followed, relieved. He was back to the old Arthur, all business and seriousness.

They stopped in front of a big spiral staircase. Arthur gesticulated for her to go first and she put one foot on the lowest white step and placed the hand carefully on the banisters. It seemed substantial enough. She began climbing the stairs. Just behind she heard the older man's steps. She even felt his cold breath in the nape of her neck. It made her shiver. Dangerous. She speeded up, not caring whether she got out her breath. Jesus, she was acting like an amateur. Just because of him. Pathetic.

"So, you said you and Eames had a conversation? What over?"

The question was obviously only asked out of politeness, since his voice didn't contain one bit of interest. And he showed no signs of needing to catch his breath either, even though he followed her footsteps just as close as before. Bastard.

"Oh, that? Nothing really."

Ariadne smiled to herself. Even this man must have some sense of curiosity hidden somewhere within himself. She wouldn't give it to him so easy.

"I see. I do recognize the situation, you cannot believe how many times I've found myself in conversations with him on the subject of "nothing". My advice is that you just walk away from him whenever he starts talking. That's what I do."

Ariadne stumbled on a step, almost falling forward. Just Arthur's slender hands on her hips saved her.

"Are you alright?"

He touched her so casually. He had caught her without hesitating; his hands had reached out for her as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Ariadne felt the anger rise inside her and threw him a glance over her shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks. How long is this staircase?"

Arthur met her gaze without showing any signs of offence at her sharp tone.

"Oh, not long at all."

He was right. They were just some steps above the floor, even though they must have been walking for minutes.

"Paradox", she mumbled.

He nodded. "I wondered how long it would take you to notice."

Then he frowned at her.

"I was surprised you didn't recognize it earlier. Your mind seems elsewhere today. Was it something Eames said?"

She winced and looked away. If she looked any longer at that concern in his eyes she would kick him down the stairs.

"Um…"

"Ariadne, what did he say? Tell me."

He reached out his arm and took her hand, gazing up at her. What was this, Romeo and Juliet? But Ariadne couldn't pull her hand away. How could she ever?

"Um… Actually, Arthur, we were talking about you."

She was tired of this game now. It hadn't been at all what she had expected it to be. Then again, what had she really expected from The King of Composure? The hand loosened its grip and fell back.

"About me? What did he say?"

He didn't sound angry, or happy or even the least bit curious. Obviously when it was about Eames, the conversation lost all worth for him.

"He said… that you've been acting strange lately. That I should be a little careful when entering your mind."

There. He flinched. Why had he flinched?

"Strange? Strange how?"

"Um… he says you seem remote and… um… more distant than usual. That you don't want to meet his eyes anymore."

He blushed. The King of Composure blushed.

"I've seen it too", Ariadne continued, encouraged by the, though minimal, reactions she received. "When you're with Eames, you're acting different than usual."

She paused and waited for Arthur to speak, waited for the mighty protests and the noble objections. But there were none.

"I know you two don't always get along. But did something happen?"

"Ariadne, I…"

"I have to be able to trust you, you now. There's no way I can learn to build if I can't."

"I know."

He looked serious now, and more composed than ever.

"Let's sit down for a moment, Ariadne."

Did he have to say her name so often? But she didn't comment on it and simply sat down on the step. He placed himself beside her, without looking her in the eye.

"I'm telling you this because I now it is absolutely necessarily for you to trust me", he said. "But I also trust you not to tell others what I tell you."

"Deal", she answered.

He flashed a quick smile that made her relieved she already had sat down, then gazed silently at the clenched hands in his lap.

"Like you said, I and Eames don't get on very well with each other. That is, I believe, because we are each other's opposites. We have worked together earlier, did you know that? Actually we met first time when we were still teens."

"But you didn't like him then either." Ariadne said quietly.

This had been a stupid idea. Fucking stupid.

"I didn't say anything about not liking", Arthur muttered. "Just that we've always been very different, even then. And that makes it hard for me to get along with him. He's such a…"

"…stupid slacker that can't take things seriously no matter how important the situation?"

"Right."

Ariadne raised her arm. She didn't care if this was a dream. She'd beat him so hard he'd fall right into limbo.

"And therefore he makes me… nervous I guess you'd call it. I don't know what to do when he jokes with me and always end up throwing sarcasm all over him."

Ariadne lowered her arm.

"I just can't remain my calm around him. And it makes me very uncomfortable. Therefore I decided to avoid him until…"

"…Until?"

"Until I've changed."

He was blushing again. So cute. So vulnerable. Ariadne had to restrain herself not to start laughing. She had never seen him like this.

"Changed? What do you mean, Arthur?"

He had made her feel like shit. Hell, he had made her go nearly mad for weeks now. It was only fair he'd suffer a little too.

"Well… you see I… I…"

He was looking for words. Now this was a new one, he, who usually had all his well-phrased, poisonous sentences ready, was looking for words. Hilarious. Ariadne leaned closer and waited for the final confession, no longer able to keep the smile from her lips.

"I… um… remember when we kissed?"

Her smile faded.

"What?"

"Or rather, I made you kiss me?"

_His hands, touching her so gently. His voice repeating her name. His smile upon her over and over and over. _

"What the fuck are you talking about? You kissed? When? Where? You cheating bastard!"

She was shouting. Arthur turned to look at her with narrow eyes.

"What…"

Then he fell silent and his eyes narrowed even further at the same time Ariadne's eyes grew larger in her face at the realization of what she had done.

"Shit", she muttered.

"You're… not Ariadne."

"Guess you got me. Heh."

Eames shifted his appearance and smiled hopefully at Arthur, tilting his head a little to the side. He knew Arthur had had a dog when he was younger. He had a weakness for dogs that few knew about. Now if he could just manage to look like that little puppy had done…

Arthur punched him right in the face with a force that threw him into the banisters.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Eames?"

Eames shook his head a couple of times, trying to clear it. His ears rang and his mouth tasted of blood. He suddenly realized what that thrilling taste in the wine he hadn't been able to make out had been. Blood. That sadistic bastard. He tried to focus his eyes on the face in front of him and couldn't help smiling.

"What the fuck are you grinning at, you jerk!"

Finally, for the first time in weeks The King of Composure had lost his composure in front of him.

"Hey, Arthur, don't kill me just yet, will you?"

"Eames, what the hell are you doing here, pretending to be Ariadne, you…"

"Oh, please, darling, have mercy!" Eames groaned.

He managed to get himself back up into sitting straightly. The world had almost stopped spinning.

"This was the only way for me to even get near you. Fuck, you've been avoiding me like I'm the projection of your worst nightmare come to life in weeks now."

There was a short silence where they glared at each other. Then Arthur looked away.

"What did you do to Ariadne?"

Eames chuckled.

"Do to her? What do you think I did, killed her? All I did was to catch her on her way here and show her some mazes I've been working on. She was devoured in them in less than a second, I tell you. Then I went to my Sleeping Beauty, fixed me up as Ariadne and this sweet dream could begin."

"Like you could create mazes she wouldn't solve in an instant."

"Now, that's my Arthur."

"I'm not yours!" Arthur hissed and turned around.

Eames didn't hesitate but gripped the nape of his neck and forced their lips together. The black haired protested wildly into the kiss but Eames ignored him and held him even closer, muffling the sounds with his tongue. First when Arthur had settled down he loosened his grip of him enough for both of them to breath.

"Oh, but you are", he whispered. "You're mine. So don't ever dare to ignore me again, Arthur. Not ever."

"… You taste of blood."

Eames smirked.

"And whose fault is that?"

He raised his arm to wipe away the blood from his mouth but was stopped by Arthur's hand upon his. Without another word the black haired leaned in and licked his lips clean, letting his tongue slide in between them without actually touching them with his own lips. All this time he never took his dark eyes from Eames'. The teasing act made the forger want to tear all his clothes of and take him on the stair, paradox or not. But there were some things to be dealt with first.

"So, when, why and where did you kiss Ariadne, love?"

Arthur let his tongue brush once more over his lips before he leaned back and smiled.

"It can't be that you're jealous, Eames? Just because she's a young, lovely woman with an amazing sense of architecture."

"Shut it and answer me."

Eames glared at him.

"Well, I think it must have been when you were playing around as a busty blondie. The subconscious was acting rather sinisterly so I tried kissing Ariadne to make them less suspicious.

"And?"

"It didn't work. But it was worth a shot."

"I meant how was it?"

Arthur stared at Eames. His face was as composed as ever.

"I felt nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. I was kissing a young, beautiful and very attractive woman and I felt nothing. And for that, Eames, I blame you."

Eames smiled at him.

"I'll take that blame, darling. Now, before you started hitting me you were saying something, right? Something about how you had to change…"

Eames tilted his head to the side.

"Could it possibly be that you were going to say you love me, Arthur?"

"I would never say that."

"You're blushing, honey."

"I'm not!"

Eames chuckled and leaned in to kiss the man he loved while removing his jacket. This time he didn't have to fight as much for it. His right hand loosened the tie around Arthur's slender neck, his left slid up his thigh.

"Hey, Eames…"

"You have ignored me for weeks. Now, shut your cakehole and ignore me some more."

Eames smiled and nipped his neck.

"If you can, that is."

One button at a time he undid the shirt, showering Arthur's muscular chest and stomach with kisses. When rubbing his hard nipples with the tongue the black haired moaned. He was more sensitive than usual. Then again, it had been some time.

"I'm gonna make this the best dream you've ever had, baby", Eames whispered.

"Stop giving me those cliché-lines as if I were a virgin school girl", Arthur murmured.

"But it turns you on, doesn't it, honey?"

Eames stroked the buckle between the black haired's legs through the fabric and chuckled when the other moaned loudly.

"Eames… we're in a staircase… ah… it's uncomfortable."

"Couldn't care less. I'm having you. Right now."

Eames unbuttoned the trousers and exposed Arthur's erection.

"Huh." He said. "Smaller than I had expected it to be."

"Hey, what the fuck do you…"

"Easy, honey bum. I'm just saying it's your dream and you create everything and I probably would have made mine a lot larger. Not that it's needed, of course. But for fun."

Eames started massaging the erection while kissing it gently, sometimes licking, sometimes sucking. Arthur leaned back on his elbows, glancing down his shivering, sweaty body at the forger.

"I'm… not like you", he panted.

Eames laughed.

"I think we have made that clear a couple of times already, right? Now for the last time, would you shut up and let me fuck you?"

Eames took the erection in his mouth and started bobbing his head forwards and backwards. Arthur moaned and buried his hands in his hair. Nearby the floor flew into pieces, as if blown up.

"Now that was interesting", Eames remarked. "Talk about blowjob, right? Turn over on your knees."

"I think it's enough…"

"It's not", Eames declared shortly. "Turn over. Do it yourself or I'll make it for you."

Arthur rolled over onto his knees.

"Now, that's a good boy."

"Shut up."

Eames smirked and removed the annoying trousers and underwear from the slim hips, then started drawing small wet circles at Arthur's entrance with his tongue. For every circle he pushed deeper in. And for every time he went deeper in, a window shattered or parts of the walls were destroyed. When he inserted two fingers, the floor shivered together with Arthur's body.

"Kind of apocalyptical, don't you think?"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up, Eames."

"Fair enough."

Suddenly Arthur moaned even louder than before and some meters away an entire wall was ripped apart. He had hit the prostate.

"Losing control, are we?"

"Eames, stop teasing. Give it to me."

Even now he struggled to sound unaffected. Demanding, always demanding.

"No, I won't. You must have something to look forward to when we wake up, right, honey?"

"But… ah…"

"Just take it as a proof of my love, will you?"

"Ngh… Eames…"

He thrusted his fingers deeper in, teasing that sensitive spot in the way he knew made Arthur go mad.

"Mm… Eames… I'm…ah…"

Arthur's slender body was pulsating, pounding, burning up. Eames could feel it. All around them the world was being ripped into pieces. He had to scream to be heard.

"You're mine, Arthur! Don't ever forget that!"

The next instance Arthur arched, crying out, and the paradoxical staircase was torn apart.

_~Epilogue~_

Arthur woke up with a gasp.

"That was some kick, huh, darling?"

He turned his head and met Eames' amused grey eyes. Immediately he looked away again, not wanting the other to see the blush he felt burning on his cheeks. The next second Ariadne rushed into the room, her arms full of blueprints.

"I solved them all, Eames! And it took me less than ten minutes!"

"That's a good girl."

"I'm sorry I'm late, Arthur, but it seems like you haven't started yet. Shall we begin then? I'm really curious about what you wanted to show me…"

"Let's take that another day, Ariadne. I don't feel that good."

"You don't? Well, your face is all red. Maybe you have a fever.

"Yeah." Arthur flinched when he felt Eames' hand upon his forehead. "He's hot. I'll take him home."

And before either Ariadne or Arthur had any chance to reply, Eames gripped Arthur's hand and dragged him out of the room. For this time, the King of Composure was defeated.

~THE END~


End file.
